Disproving the Theory
by sonofon
Summary: They've unwittingly set out to prove that not all newlywed couples are living in eternal bliss. A series of KyouyaHaruhi one-shots. Ch 23: In which baby names suggested by Tamaki or Hikaru are forever banned from the Fujioka-Ohtori household.
1. Interpreter Wanted

**Author's Notes:** My attempt at humor, though I have probably failed miserably. Written for my friend, Kat Kuro, because she ships this pairing _way_ too delusionally. I'm kidding.

* * *

To his dismay, Kyouya found out that Haruhi spoke another language besides Japanese and a dash of English.

Commoner.

Turns out she was fluent in it, too. His many years of linguistics training could not prepare him for this moment. Even his cunning and deliberation could find no way around it. He was – as a commoner once eloquently put it – screwed.

It was also bad timing because their marriage had already been sealed with kiss and license, and unless he wanted to deplete further millions in his bank account, there was no way out. Absolutely. No way out.

When she said, "Coupons," he said, "Credit card."

When she said, "Half-off sale," he said, "Who would sell a product for a reduced price?"

Lost In Translation.

The message of the common folk did not register the same way to the rich.

And vice-versa.

He said, "Are ten servants enough for you?"

She said, "WHAT?"

Then he added, "Or perhaps eight is better? Eight is an auspicious number, you know."

"WHAT?"

Marrying Haruhi, Kyouya decided, was something he had perhaps done a bit too rashly.

"What we need," Haruhi finally said, "is an interpreter."

Kyouya thought about it. "Fine, but if you get an interpreter, that counts as part of your eight."

* * *

And before anyone asks, they are kind of OOC in that it seems like they don't really understand each other, that's why they're acting so weirdly. I'm sorry, but this is more fun. I'll try to keep it more in character next time.

Speaking of next time, I'm not sure if I'll write other drabbles/one-shots or not. I guess it'll depend on what readers say, so there is no definite answer. I probably should add more stories though.

Any comments/criticism will be appreciated.


	2. Private or Public

**Author's Notes:** An update! Written because...I'm _sure_ that when Kyouya's by himself, he binges on lollipops or something.

* * *

"Coffee?" she asked him, handing him a mug without waiting for an answer.

"Thank you," he replied, taking it. He took a sip and made a face. "Haruhi," he said, "is this…black?"

"Of course it is," she said. "You always drink black. Is there something wrong?"

"Wrong? Yes, there is something wrong. I want two sugars."

"Sugar? Since when did you ever start putting sugar in your coffee? Ever since I've known you, it's been black."

"Two sugars," he curtly said, returning his attention back to his morning papers. "If it's not too much to ask for."

Haruhi wasn't exactly quite sure what to say. Had she suddenly forgotten how Kyouya preferred his coffee? She picked up his mug and went back into the kitchen.

And that was how she found out about Kyouya's peculiar sweet tooth.

--

The next week, when Tamaki and his wife, Akane, came over for coffee, Haruhi naturally asked Kyouya if he wanted sugar.

Tamaki sucked in his breath a bit too rudely as he had never seen his friend consume sugar and assumed he didn't, and was obviously surprised to say the least.

Kyouya then told Haruhi in a polite but firm voice that no, he did not want any sugar. What made her think that? He smiled at her, and Tamaki's nerves were calmed. His friend had not been abducted and reprogrammed by aliens.

Of course not, Kyouya said, what made him think of something as strange as that?

And that was how Haruhi found out that Kyouya's peculiar sweet tooth existed _privately_.

* * *

Okay, good, bad?


	3. Commoner's Coupons

**Author's Notes:** Update! Coupons 101.

* * *

What was it was coupons and commoners?

Was it some original law of life that stated that all commoners shall use coupons whenever they see one?

Haruhi, evidently, did not understood the concept of having maids. Maids did the housework so she would have time to work or relax or do whatever she pleased. Maids did the small chores that no one ever liked to do. And yes, those chores included grocery shopping.

"Oh, look at this," Haruhi said out loud to herself, "it comes with a coupon." She ripped the page out.

"Coupon?" Kyouya appeared behind her. "What are you reading?"

"Just a magazine. It always comes with good ones, too."

"Why do you need coupons? It's not like you're going to go grocery shopping. We have servants. These are people we pay to do this."

"Why pay them, then, when you can do it yourself?" she asked him. She held up one of the coupons. "See, look. You can get extra deals if you buy a certain amount of noodles on the twenty-third of May."

"Has it ever occurred to you that they might be trying to scam you?" Kyouya replied.

"What?" Haruhi spun her head around. "Why would they do that?"

Kyouya also learned that coupons, somehow, caused commoners to lose all common sense as they tried to buy a week's worth of food without actually paying.

* * *

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review.


	4. Pink Lunch Box

**Author's Notes:** There was that chapter in the manga where Tamaki goes into daydream mode about Haruhi making him a bento or something like that. So I'm making it a reality sort of, except it's Kyouya, that lucky guy.

* * *

Kyouya usually didn't eat lunch.

His schedule was often so tight that he simply skipped it.

To make up for it, he would drink ten cups of coffee.

Haruhi saw this as a bad habit, and she decided to take matters into her own hands.

She made lunch for him herself.

One morning, she presented Kyouya with a small box as he was about to leave the house.

"What's this?" he asked.

"A bento box," she explained. "You shouldn't skip lunch, and I thought you could eat a little at least if you brought it with you."

He opened it. To be sure, the aroma was delicious, but…

"It's pink," he deadpanned.

"Well," she said, "I thought it might brighten up your day or something like that. Anyways, I got to go myself. So eat it, okay, Kyouya?"

And Kyouya, for once, ate lunch that day.

He wondered why she didn't act like this more often.

* * *

And he...likes it? Read and review!


	5. The Vending Machine

**Author's Notes:** This actually happened to me and my friend once. She was pretty amused by the idea of getting gypped by a vending machine. Unfortunately, we were not as lucky as Kyouya and Haruhi. And it might be a bit OOC.

* * *

Kyouya was in a sticky situation, and there was only one person to call on for help.

"Haruhi – what is this?"

She looked up at him in surprise. "A vending machine."

"A vending what?"

"Machine," she rolled her eyes, "are you implying that the rich don't know what a vending machine is?"

"There is a reason why obscure commoner inventions are obscure," Kyouya replied. He rapped his knuckles on the machine. "Is this some kind of game?"

"No, you get drinks from it."

"What?" Now Kyouya was truly confused.

"You know," Haruhi clarified, "you put money in it, you choose a drink, and it comes out."

"Comes out how? I would imagine that even commoners understand personal hygiene."

"It comes out in a _can_." Haruhi sighed. "Here, why don't you try it?"

"Try what?"

"Try putting money into the slot. I'm sure you don't have a limit on that."

"Really, Haruhi, do you think I would want to risk my own health to try out this?"

"Oh come on," she said. "Do you have change?"

"Does this machine accept credit cards?"

"What? No, Kyouya, the point isn't about credit cards. It's about using your change."

"Not everyone," he said, "has the need for change."

"Oh, fine," she said, "here, I'll do it."

Haruhi stood in front of the machine, and scanned the labels on it. Eventually, she selected a juice that cost one hundred and twenty yen, and she inserted two hundred yen into the slot.

She pressed the button, and Kyouya watched a canned drink appear in the opening with a thud.

"See, that's it," she said to him, raising the can. "Here."

Uncertain, he took it from her. But there was one problem. "Haruhi."

"What?"

"Where's your change?"

"Oh, yeah." She dropped to her knees to the change slot. She felt her fingers inside, but there was no money. Originally, she should have gotten eighty yen as change.

Standing up once again, she said, "I guess something's wrong with the machine."

"You mean you were gypped?"

"If that's, er, how you want to put it, then yes." She tilted her head and pondered the situation. She had just been gypped by a vending machine.

It was quite amusing. Really.

"Come on, let's go," she said, shrugging. She turned to leave, but looked back when she noticed that Kyouya had not moved a step.

He pounded his hand on the machine, lightly at first, then with growing strength.

"Kyouya! What are you doing?" she asked him. "You can't possibly be after that eighty yen, right?"

"I won't have my wife gypped. By a vending machine of all things," was his explanation.

Finally, his tenacity paid off, and coins spilled out the slot. She reached down to pick it up, and she counted it.

"We got a hundred yen back," she noted.

"See?" Kyouya retook his position by his wife as they continued to stroll along. "Ohtoris always have a way of finding a profit in everything."

* * *

I wish that could really happen in real life...But, yeah! Read and review!


	6. It's Me or the Laptop

**Author's Notes:** Actually, this should have been the first chapter, but I only found it now, so here it is! Warnings for OOCness and all that jazz. Also, has this idea been used before? I hope not.

* * *

Whoever said that it was all eternal bliss for newlyweds clearly did not experience a true marriage.

That person, obviously, had a normal marriage, which did not exist in this world.

A _true_ marriage, Haruhi decided, was about love, learning, and fighting. Especially fighting.

Haruhi was a naturally stubborn person who didn't like to give in to others or bow down to orders.

Kyouya, in his own way, was also stubborn. He didn't like to think he was wrong. And he did _not_ like to give up his laptop.

It was during their honeymoon.

"Kyouya," Haruhi said, "I love you very much, but I am seriously considering divorce right now."

"Giving up so soon, aren't you?" he replied.

"Kyouya," she said, exasperated. "Tell me, are we on our honeymoon together, or is this really a business trip is disguise?"

"And what gives you that idea, dear Haruhi?"

"Kyouya," she repeated, "you've been spending more time with your laptop than me. That might give you an idea."

"Work," he quickly replied, "is one of my top priorities. Marriage is equally important to me, but there comes a time when–"

"Closing out a deal is so important that a husband must cancel a dinner with his wife?" she interrupted. "Three nights in a row?"

"Now, Haruhi, you don't honestly think that I don't love you."

"I never asked you that, Kyouya. I'm only telling you my concerns about your laptop."

"You don't honestly think I love my laptop more than you, do you?"

"Kyouya," and she snapped at him. "Just shut up and kiss me."

He did.

And after that, it wasn't as much of a problem anymore.

* * *

Yay for OOC!Haruhi...

Read and review! And many thanks to everyones who's reviewed so far!


	7. Forgotten Anniversary

**Author's Notes:** Sometimes, Haruhi needs a little push in the right direction. Okay, I'm being cruel here, but it's fun to mess with (torture) Kyouya.

* * *

"So, Haruhi," Tamaki asked, "how is married life treating you?"

"Oh, it's okay, Tamaki-senpai. Kyouya sometimes gets on your nerves and all, but…"

"But?"

"He's good," she finished flatly.

Tamaki looked taken aback. "What do you mean? Don't you love him?"

"Love him?" Haruhi looked thoughtful, and Tamaki gapped. Was it that hard of a question?

"Yes," she said finally, "I love him."

"Are you two doing anything special today?" he asked her.

"No," she looked puzzled, "why?"

"Isn't today," Tamaki was throwing her a life boat, "a...special day?"

Haruhi, however, evidently wanted to drown. "Really? Why do you ask?"

"Perhaps," Tamaki was trying again, "because today is May twenty-third?"

"Oh yes," she said nodding. She must have remembered by now, Tamaki thought. He was glad he had given her that little push.

"I have a dentist appointment later today," and she smiled. "Thanks for the reminder."

And Tamaki sighed once again as he made a mental note to remember to give Kyouya an extra big birthday present later that year.

* * *

In case you didn't get it, May twenty-third is their (made-up) anniversary. Yep, it's already been a year. Lalala...

Read and Review! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far!


	8. Post Office Blues

**Author's Notes:** No one, not even Haruhi, is safe from the perils of _the post office_. Randomness is aplenty.

* * *

With a sigh, Haruhi dragged herself over to Kyouya's side. "Kyouya."

"Yes?" The flipping of pages of some sort continued to filter throughout the room, which was Kyouya's subtle way of telling her: I'm not in the mood to listen to you so instead, I'll pretend I'm not even paying attention while I really know every single tiny little detail about whatever you're going to say.

She twitched.

"Anyway, Dad sent me a package," she began, "from Hokkaido. He said it would take three to five days, so we wouldn't have happened to get a package lately, right?"

"No, why?"

"Well," she said, "I was thinking that maybe the post office wrote down the wrong date or something. It's been over _thirty-five_ days, and I still haven't gotten it. And Dad's been home long since then."

"He sent it through the post office?"

"Yes."

"Ah," he said simply, "I see."

"See what?" Why did Kyouya always have to be vague?

"The post office," and finally, he set down his book. "That explains everything."

At first, Haruhi didn't get it, but then she understood. "Look, Kyouya, I know the post office is snail mail in this 'age of technology,' but it still gets the job done. Just because I don't have a private jet–"

"All you had to do was to ask," he interrupted her calmly, and Haruhi had never wanted to wring his neck so tightly before. She gritted her teeth and tried again.

"But–"

"Besides," he continued, as if he didn't notice (or care about) the change in her face, "when you send something through the post office, you send it off, right?"

"Right," she managed. "But–"

"You send it off," he repeated. "_Forever_."

"But–"

"The post office can't be trusted Haruhi," he finished, and turned his head back to reading.

Again, Haruhi fought the urge to wring his neck, but she, of course, composed herself.

"Fine, then," she quietly said, and she left the room thereafter.

Kyouya looked after her receding figure and suppressed a smile. The box that Haruhi had been referring to was safely locked in one of the many storage rooms where Haruhi would never find it.

It wouldn't have been ideal for her to find her birthday present nearly a year before it actually came.

* * *

So basically, this takes place sometime in June which is after their anniversary, and Haruhi's birthday, which is sometime in February if I'm not mistaken. Anyway, Kyouya is always prepared really early apparently.

Read and Review!


	9. An Alternative Look

**Author's Notes:** A long one-shot, compared to my previous ones. It's also more serious in nature, kind of, and it's about their relationship changing and evolving as a whole. As always, warnings for possible OOCness.

* * *

He wears a mask almost all the time, never bothering to take if off. My reputation is important for my line of work, he says. She thinks that he worries more about his public image than his own marriage.

It's a mask he has been wearing for years. He has never taken it off – not even after he met her. She never tried to take it off; it sort of fell off on its own after years of decay.

He remembers times in Ouran when he had wanted desperately to yank it off. "I'm here!" he wants to say to her.

But he doesn't. Instead, he watches as his best friend tries to court her – and is horribly rejected, not intentionally of course.

Seeing this, Ohtori Kyouya pulls the mask up tighter. He is withdrawn from the Host Club, preferring to be in the company of his laptop and never-ending numbers.

From the background, he watches her. He notices the smallest of details, that she always raises her left eyebrow and when she laughs, she puts her hands on her sides.

Haruhi watches Kyouya, too. She takes no action, but wonders what he really is like behind all his defenses. Once, she had gotten the courage to talk to him, but he was firmly hidden behind the mask, and she left disappointed.

Kyouya watches Haruhi go, and feels the need to reach after her.

He dismisses it the notion as ludicrous.

Five years later, he runs into her at a law firm. She is working on an internship. He is visiting the owner on behalf of his father.

Afterwards, they go out for coffee. Haruhi drops two sugars in and pours in some cream. Kyouya pours cream in, but puts in no sugar. He stirs his coffee counterclockwise, which Haruhi notices.

She remembers back in the Host Club when he had refused even cream. She doesn't remember which direction he stirred his coffee. She briefly wonders if this is a sign that his defenses are letting up. A sign of the mask falling off. That he is becoming more of a "friend" rather than "an old school acquaintance."

It's a false sign. Nothing comes of the meeting, and Haruhi only says good-bye to Kyouya before going back to her internship and work. She fails to see that his mask had been slightly removed. Turning too early, she doesn't see Kyouya's moved face.

For the next two hours, Haruhi cannot concentrate on the work set before her. Half the city away, Kyouya is doodling on some paper. Upon closer inspection, he realizes that he had been drawing her smiling profile.

Unlike his other previous doodles, Kyouya files it away in his desk.

Time flies by so quickly, Haruhi thinks. It has been another five years. She sits in a cramped office on the fifteenth floor of a small law firm. It isn't what she had imagined for herself, but she knows that hard work and dedication will lead to promotions.

Her latest case is given to her by her secretary. "Thanks, Miko-san," she says.

After reading the first few pages, she hears herself gasp. It's a case involving the Ohtori Group, and it had, in fact, been filed by the newly named heir, one Ohtori Kyouya.

Haruhi feels her spirits lighted. The last time she had spoken to him had been over half a year ago. Kyouya had been named heir shortly after. It was such a coincidence that she finds herself unable to breath for a second.

It has just occurred that it has been nearly three years since she last saw him.

She wonders if he has changed. Probably not.

She treats their meeting with nothing short of business formality. She calls him "Ohtori-san" because she doesn't want to be disappointed again. Kyouya smirks, sensing her challenge, and he plays the game as well, calling her "Fujioka-san."

They are discussing the case when Miko knocks and enters. "Would you like some coffee, Haruhi?"

It is then that Haruhi slips. "Yes, please. Thank you." She turns to the sitting man beside her. "Do you want one too, Kyouya?"

He notices it immediately, his eyes narrowing. "Yes, if you would." Miko glances at Haruhi, then at Kyouya. She scurries out to prepare the coffee and to spread some wonderful office gossip. Fujioka Haruhi and Ohtori Kyouya know each other!

She slides back down into her armchair, covering her eyes with her hand. "Oh, great."

"Well, Haruhi," Kyouya says, now that the game is over, "do you want to continue?"

"Well," Haruhi removes her hand. "I just want to know something. Why did you choose this firm? It isn't the biggest or most prestigious. Wouldn't an Ohtori choose a firm that is the most famous?"

"A prestigious firm isn't necessarily the best," Kyouya says slowly, picking his words carefully. "As in nearly every case, it is quality over quantitiy."

"At the risk of obscurity?"

He sucks in his breath. Did she see through him? Did she just realize that the reason had purely been that he wanted to see her again? "This case is vital for the Ohtori Group. We want to purchase a company, but there's some legal… implications that might cause problems, you could say," he finally says.

She seems to accept this, and the rest of the appointment is dedicated to formulating a strategy for victory. The words, however, aren't registering to Kyouya. He has found watching her face much more interesting. Her expression is constantly changing from flustered to serious to thinking.

Right now it has changed to annoyed. "Are you listening?" she asks.

He has an answer ready. "I believe that this company wants to use the excuse of their stockholders, and as a result…" It's a good thing that he always had the ability to pay attention while not really listening.

She is exhausted at the end of the meeting. Sensing this, Kyouya swifting asks if she wants to have dinner.

Secretly, she is pleased by his proposal.

"Isn't there some rule that says clients can't have a relationship with their lawyer?" she inquires.

"A dinner isn't a relationship," he replies.

They go to a restaurant where the food is simple and the bill is enormous.

"How is that possible? I only had a pasta," she demands, checking the menu again.

"It's no problem," he replies with a wave of the hand. "I'll just ask your employer to take it out of your paycheck."

She gives him a look, but later on when she gets her paycheck, she realizes that he had not taken anything out. There is a sigh of relief. Of hope.

That night, Haruhi lies on her bed, thinking about her renewed acquaintance with Kyouya. It's so abrupt and so random, she thinks. Was there a reason why he had chosen her as his lawyer? Her out of hundreds of other qualified lawyers?

The realization is a sudden revelation. "Oh," she says softly. It couldn't be. It couldn't have been…

Haruhi didn't realize until later on that Kyouya's mask at that meeting had nearly disappeared.

They win the case nearly four months later. The way she smiles almost makes him want to kiss her right there and then. But there's procedures and etiquette to think of.

He settles on shaking her hand firmly, and he takes note of how warm and soft her hands are.

"Kyouya?"

Maybe, perhaps, that was when the mask finally came off.

"Kyouya?"

Kyouya is awoken out of his temporary daze. He looks up and sees the face of his wife, looking slightly annoyed.

"What do you want for dinner?" she asks.

Kyouya just looks at her. He blinks. "Anything is fine," he says to her.

She begins to leave but then turns back to look at him. There is something different about him today. Tipping her head to the side, she says, "Hello."

Kyouya looks back at her, as if seeing her for the first time. As if he was seeing her with his own eyes for the first time.

"Hello."

* * *

Strange story? I know the order of these chapters don't make any sense. Please...just ignore that. Read and Review!


	10. Instant Coffee

**Author's Notes:** And I'm back to writing weird KyouHaru scenarios! This one involves instant coffee, everyone's favorite commoner invention (next to the vending machine)! Also FYI, Hestle is the name of the brand that Haruhi always buys in the anime series.

I should also take this time to say that none of these chapters take place in any specific time or order.

* * *

As Haruhi whizzes through the supermarket like an expert swimmer, Kyouya feels lost.

"Why am I here?" directly translates to: What is the point of dragging me to a commoner's supermarket? Once was quite enough, thank you very much.

His unsaid sarcasm is not lost on her; Haruhi has become wise beyond her years, so she answers his question bluntly.

"To pick out coffee."

She pauses, blinks, and then clarifies herself. "Instant coffee."

"Now, Haruhi, there are perfectly good coffee beans at home that–"

"Take too long to prepare," she finishes without a beat. "Do you know," and she actually stops her grocery cart to turn and face him, "how long it takes to ground them? One of the maids gave me an instruction sheet on the 'correct' procedure."

"As I told her to," Kyouya replies.

"And it was ten pages long?" Haruhi continues, her voice ends a note too high. "_Ten_?"

"A proper procedure is always necessary for the best end product," he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He was, evidently, unfazed by the idea of following a ten-page rubric for making coffee. _Coffee_.

Haruhi looks at him. "Didn't that store fix your glasses so they wouldn't slip as much?"

"Old habits die hard," he shrugs, and promptly readjusts them again partly because it's habit, and partly to prove her wrong.

Sighing, Haruhi says, "Now going back to what I was saying. You could at least pick which brand you want so you don't go 'I don't want this coffee, Haruhi' on me."

She mimics his voice, failing quite obviously, but Kyouya smirks at her attempt.

There is a whole row dedicated to instant coffee. Kyouya imagines the market scheme of it all. Commoners love it; it's easy to make, cheap to buy. Anyone without good sense would fall for it, including his wife, he thinks sadly.

Haruhi is picking cans off the shelves. "This? Or that? Kyouya, pick one. The quicker you pick, the faster we can leave."

He sees one brand that is almost like an old friend: Hestle. "They still sell?" he questions curiously.

Haruhi rolls her eyes. Then, her eyes catch a glimpse of something else on the shelf.

"Ah!"

The five possible brands that Kyouya would have chosen from are instantly (no pun intended) forgotten. Haruhi picks an unknown brand and examines it, Kyouya notes, with the avidity that an art curator would with an extremely rare painting.

But who knows? Maybe Haruhi has just found a hidden gem, the gem of all instant coffee.

Without a word, Haruhi dumps the can into the grocery cart. She stops, and then picks up three more cans. She looks back to Kyouya. "We're done," she states.

"So I suppose you've made the executive decision by yourself then?"

"Yes," she says, "and now we're done."

When the groceries are organized in their refrigerator and cabinets, and the house is quiet, Kyouya goes to the kitchen. He wants to know what exactly Haruhi bought because it's like an itch that won't go away.

If he is going to be poisoned, at least he should know what type of poison it is. Then he can find the antidote.

It is in the first drawer. A vertically shaped rectangular box.

Flipping it over, he finds out its contents, which is not just instant coffee, he finds out.

There is milk powder already inside, and even sugar. He reads the directions:

Just add hot water – and voila! – it's coffee!

Kyouya again imagines the marketing scheme behind it all (realizing now what a brilliant idea it is) as he puts the instant coffee back into its rightful place, and he decides then that he is going to need to buy some stock.

Hestle stock, that it.

* * *

Read and Review!


	11. When Both Forget

**Author's Notes:** As a reminder, _none of these one-shots take place in any paticular time or order_. And a warning, because Kyouya forgetting something warrants a warning of its own.

* * *

From the way life was going for the both of them, it shouldn't have been a surprise that neither of them remembered about the anniversary.

Kyouya, on the other hand, was secretly cursing himself. How could he have forgotten about it?

Or more specifically, how could _he_, Ohtori Kyouya, _forget_ anything?

It was a matter that was at once unthinkable and amusing to him. But since he had no time to be amused, he concentrated on it being unthinkable.

He thought back.

It had been on his memo for the past eleven months, and he'd had a dinner, a band, and the gifts all lined up. _He had everything lined up, and yet he still forgot. _All he needed to do was make the call, so why? Why?

Such was the unfairness of life, and such was Kyouya's train of thought as he rushed into a commoner's stationery store, the one near their home.

Haruhi had once pointed it out to him, for normally, it would have seemed to be any other commoner store to him.

But right now, it was _his savior_.

He nearly ran into the store, and he brought himself to the cashier where he spat out his following words.

"Anniversary cards. Where are they?"

The sales clerk didn't have to answer.

Three aisles away, he heard Haruhi call out to him, "Over here, Kyouya."

* * *

Yes, I know that Kyouya would never forget, but he is human too, right? He can't be perfect all the time, and I just like him messing up. Haruhi, on the other hand, well...

Read and Review!


	12. Misunderstandings

**Misunderstandings  
**because I enjoy torturing Kyouya so.

by: sonofon

--

When Kyouya came home, he found it largely deserted and as quiet as it could ever get. The servants were gone, not an indication of life within these tall walls. The lights, for the most part, were on, which meant that there _had_ to be someone inside.

It was a very strange situation. Kyouya wondered briefly if this was a Tamaki-related setup.

He didn't bother to call out, entering the central living room first.

No one.

The dining room adjacent. No one.

He paused. It was getting suspicious. He turned towards the grand staircase, looking up towards the bedrooms and hallways of the second floor. The light was on.

Figuring that it was probably Haruhi, he walked up. He was going to have a good word with Tachibana the next chance he got.

"Haruhi?"

She had, evidently, not heard him for he was thoroughly ignored. The door was halfway ajar; light shone from inside. He kicked it open. Haruhi was still not seen.

The bed was still made, and he wouldn't have given it a second thought but…

There was something on it, something that made his blood stir.

A pregnancy test. That was positive.

At that moment, he nearly panicked. What was the possibility of that? Unconsciously, he grabbed at his shirt collar. He wondered when this had happened. He coughed.

He wondered if there had been any foretelling signs of a pregnancy. The idea of him becoming a father was foreign, but it gradually sunk its way in. He knitted his brows together, making one hundred percent sure that what he was seeing was real.

It was real. The truth set in.

He was going to be a father. He wasn't sure if he was happy or not.

Happy, he assured himself. This was something that not many people were able to experience. He knew the odds; he saw the long lists of people who came to his family's hospitals because they wanted, or needed, a donor.

He calmed down. Now, where was Haruhi?

The master bedroom led to the bathroom. He hadn't gone in there yet. Was she there? He could have sworn that he heard a voice. A woman's.

He walked closer; the voice was louder now. He paused to listen by the doorway.

And stopped.

There was sobbing.

Kyouya considered himself to be very well composed up to that point, but upon hearing sobbing, he could only conclude one thing: Haruhi didn't want a child. But why? Was it stress or fatigue? The burden of carrying a child while she was working towards becoming a partner at her firm?

The thought brought a tinge of sadness to him. He pressed further against the door, trying to strain his ear for anything else. Eventually, he could hear no more. For once, he regretted getting the soundproof walls. The door was firmly locked and it didn't seem like Haruhi was going to be coming out anytime soon. If it was one thing he knew, it was that he wasn't going to knock.

Disheartened, he left to go to his office. He decided that the best course of action to take was to simply wait for Haruhi to say it herself. And until then, there were calls he could make to some of top doctors for abortion.

--

"I thought you were happy about getting pregnant."

"I was. I _am_!" Renge was sobbing. "But, but…I. Oh, I don't know!"

She pushed her hands into her face and rammed her back further against the granite bathtub.

Haruhi wasn't sure what to do. She placed a hand on Renge's shoulder to reassure the brunette. "Well, are you ready now?" Her legs had long lost its circulation from kneeling, but Renge didn't seem like she was going to be done anytime soon. "It's been a while since you locked us in here."

"Do I _look_ ready?" Renge's makeup was smeared; eyes were puffy red, hair out of place. "Oh, Haruhi-kun!" The suffix remained, even after all these years. "I just feel...so, _so_ scared. I don't know."

"Well, I guess I kind of understand." Haruhi managed a smile. "You've told me that many times now. I just thought that I heard someone come in a while ago."

A valiant attempt from Renge to stop sniffling followed. "Kyouya-kun perhaps?"

"Maybe. He's going to be mad that I sent all the servants away."

"Oh." Renge didn't seem too worried about that. After a few more minutes, the tears mostly wiped away, Renge brought a smile onto her face. "How ironic would it be," she wondered out loud, "if Kyouya-kun saw that positive pregnancy test of mine on the bed and thought it was yours?"

_A/N: Possibly OOC. Read and Review!_


	13. The Merit of Honesty

**The Merit of Honesty  
**because Haruhi's bluntness knows no bounds.

by: sonofon

--

If it was one thing that Haruhi could be relied on for, it was honesty. Pure, brutal honesty.

She lay askew on their bed, flipping through some magazine.

"I didn't know you read women's fashion magazines," Kyouya noted.

Haruhi rolled her eyes. "The twins," she said by way of explanation. "Something about an exhibition or whatever crazy plan they have."

"Oh?"

Pointing at a picture of a stick-thin model, Haruhi said, "But it's not like I can model. I'd never be that skinny anyway."

"You're skinny enough," he replied. "Almost too skinny." As an afterthought, he said, absentmindedly, "In fact, it wouldn't hurt if you added a few pounds."

"Really?" Haruhi flipped the page, turning to the page of the profile of a male movie star. "Now that's a skinny person," she said, "for a guy."

"He's a movie star," Kyouya simply said. "It's what he chose to be."

"True."

After a few more pages, the profile was of another movie star, this one, however, not in his prime. His weight read as a staggering three hundred pounds, but he stood at six feet and eight inches.

"Now, if I ate a lot more, a considerable deal more," Kyouya commented, "there is a feasible possibility that I will become like him."

"No, I don't think so," Haruhi assured him. "You'll never be six foot eight."

_A/N: Kyouya, I think, is 6 foot 1? (And Kyouya will NEVER be fat. None of the Ouran boys are.)_

_Read and Review! _


	14. A Careful Eye

**A Careful Eye  
**because Kyouya is only prepared for the worst.

by: sonofon

--

"I've been noticing something lately."

Kyouya quirked one eyebrow at her. "What?"

"Well, every time I talk to someone on the phone, I hear this small _tap-tap_ sound." Haruhi paused. "Is there something wrong with the phone?"

"I can't imagine what that would be," he responded. "All of our phones are in working order. You must be imagining things. Working too hard, perhaps?"

"Maybe," she said, touching her finger to her chin. "But for some reason, I only hear it when I'm talking to Hikaru. Or Kaoru. Or Tamaki, Hunny, and Mori for that matter."

"Really?" he said, looking, to say the least, perplexed. "I can't possibly imagine."

Afterwards, Haruhi went to her own business, and Kyouya to his office. He connected his line to Tachibana where he said, in a lower voice than he'd intended, "She's onto us."

A/N: In case you didn't get it, Kyouya's tapping the phone line. Read and Review!


	15. Slow Reader

**Slow Reader**

by: sonofon

--

When Kyouya had become rich and famous beyond all imagination, the next obvious step for him to take was to write a book.

This is what all wealthy and sophisticated people did, meaning, in other words, that they had way too much time. Haruhi agreed with this train of thought, but the idea of Kyouya becoming an author amused her.

Perhaps it was because she'd never imagined him as the type to sit down, think about things other than money or contracts, and _write_, not for spreadsheets or reports, but for the simple, fulfilling joy of writing.

Therefore, it rather shocked her when Kyouya announced, out of the blue, that he'd written a book, it was going to be published in exactly two weeks, and did she have a new dress for the press reception tomorrow?

She should have expected this. That Kyouya would tell her about his newly penned book _after_ he'd written it. Really, she should have expected this.

Yet, somehow, she also felt proud. It probably wasn't easy to write a book, more so when the subject was stocks and the benefits of buying early in the market. Though she'd never told him, Haruhi had fell asleep on the fifteenth page of the manuscript he showed her.

Nonetheless, she found herself at the checkout cashier later that day, buying a bottle of wine and can of caviar. There was a bit of stubbornness, at first, because it bothered her, secretly, to be buying such products; really, marrying into a rich family had not made her greedier of the food labels she was exposed to.

Really. Not counting ootoro.

But anyhow.

The cashier noticed her items, a bottle of the most expensive win in the market and caviar; these items, after all, distinguished the Rich Person.

"Special occasion?" he drawled, expertly scanning the wine without even looking at it.

"Er, I suppose," she replied. "My husband finished a book." How strange was it to say the words: my husband?

"Ah," the cashier said. When he returned the change to Haruhi, he added, "Slow reader?"

A/N: The cashier is implying that Kyouya is a slow reader, to clarify. Read and Review!


	16. Lawn Servicing

**Lawn Servicing **

by: sonofon

--

It was like any other day out on the road. Kyouya drove with Haruhi sitting next to him. It was rare, indeed, for Kyouya to be driving, but he'd insisted this one time, and Haruhi was eager to not have a personal chauffeur.

They were on their way to a dinner social held by Hunny and Mori as celebration for the opening of a new dojo downtown. Traffic was monstrous. Haruhi groaned and checked her watch.

At this rate, they were going to be late. Kyouya tensed.

After getting stopped at yet another traffic light, Haruhi stopped watching the road in front of her and concentrated on the view outside her window.

She blinked. A landscaping truck had stopped at the red light next to them, but it was the content being laden in the back that caught her attention.

"It's full of green sod," she noted, and she squinted to get a better look. "And it looks fresh."

"Is there something so peculiar about it?" Kyouya asked without even looking.

"Well, yeah," she countered. "How is big is that truck? It's like a fresh lawn can be delivered to your door." She paused, before adding, "Or, is it even _possible_? To send your lawn out to get cut?"

"Their number's back at home if you want it," he deadpanned, still keeping his glance straight forward, "but they do quite good work."

A/N: Basically, it's this service that takes your lawn, cuts it, and brings it back to your frontyard all via truck. I'm not sure if such a service exists. Reviews are appreciated and loved.


	17. How to Save

**How to Save**

by: sonofon

--

Now, Haruhi was a very intelligent woman, but for even her, there were some topics that were beyond her spectrum of knowledge. This included The Television. You see, Haruhi was not a person who curled up in front of a set, equipped with remote and bowl of popcorn, and watched a soap opera.

No, in fact, Haruhi did not even usually watch TV in the first place, other than the occasional news channel. So it surprised her very much when one day, Kyouya confronted her with the idea of buying a new TV.

Her first instinct was, "We already have one. Or ten."

Kyouya was not stupid. "Of course."

"So we don't need one."

He did not agree with this. "Haruhi," he said, "there are some things in life that simply go...out-of-date, for lack of better word. And the TV is one of them."

"Your point?"

He said nothing, and she took that as a concession on his part. She was only all too eager to continue reading before he calmly interrupted, "There's a new model coming out in two days." There was an unsaid 'I want this' at the end.

Haruhi blinked. "I don't really care, you know."

"I know."

A silence followed. Haruhi added, "Anyhow, I don't really get TVs."

"I noticed a while ago," he replied.

She shrugged. "But I do know that Dad has been bragging lately about getting an upgrade from a regular TV to a high-definition one. Or something like that."

"Really, now. And how did he do that?"

It turned out to be a simple answer. "He wiped the screen clean," she said.

A/N: I suppose updates are becoming more sporadic now. Reviews are loved.


	18. The News

A/N: The (overdue, perhaps?) follow-up to the mistaken pregnancy chapter (Chapter 12). Also, the mentioned study below, as far as I am aware of, does not exist.

**The News**

by: sonofon

--

Kyouya was wary after that incident, as he'd indirectly reminded Haruhi countless times.

"Excuse me," she said defensively, because it wasn't _her_ fault that he'd overreacted like that. "And besides," she added, "didn't Renge buy a bunch of stocks after that from the Ohtori Corporations as an apology? As if there even needed to be an apology in the first place."

"That doesn't mean I didn't avoid a near heart attack," he shot back.

"At least you didn't have an actual one," she countered.

"Then you weren't aware of a study conducted on heart attacks recently, were you," he said, always aware of the latest medical news. "It said that heart attacks are more likely to happen over something that _didn't_ happen rather than something that did. Conducted by Harvard College. One of the members on the team is a Nobel Prize recipient in Medicine too."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Haruhi shrugged it off.

"Meaning, it's more likely for me to have a heart attack over thinking that you weren't pregnant rather than you actually being pregnant." He gave a contained smirk.

"Oh," she said, tilting her head just slightly. "Right."

"Really."

"I never said I didn't believe you, you know."

"I know."

"Huh," said Haruhi, who now gave her own version of a smile. "So, it shouldn't give you a heart attack then if I told you today that I was pregnant."


	19. Business Encounters

A/N: A poll is currently being run on my profile to vote for the sex of the baby. Please vote?

**Business Encounters  
**

by: sonofon

--

There was a reason why Haruhi had never particularly enjoyed seeing Kyouya's potential clients come to their home.

He'd always insisted, but for a strange, peculiar reason he never bothered to fully explain _why_ he always brought them over. They were representatives sent from other companies looking to have a hand in his services. They were male, they were female. They were young, they were old.

Today's client-to-be was female. Young. Wearing a smart suit and tall stiletto heels; thick makeup. In contrast to Haruhi (sweatpants and last year's blouse while going _au natural_), she looked much more professional.

On one occasion, Kyouya had explained it as this: his clients wanted to know what type of home he lived in, what type of family household he ran. Not that anybody doubted Ohtori Kyouya for a second, but procedures were procedures, he had said.

Haruhi had accepted that with a roll of her eyes. The rich had always had an inexplicable urge to show off their wealth, was how she decided to interpret the statement.

She was beginning to hear the noise now, coming from the floor upstairs. It was almost a scream, a moan.

She knew this because she had heard it many times before, and she could a remember a time when there would be several visitors a week, each of whom always gave this burst of noise: male or female, young or old. She also remembered that these people had always gone on to become clients.

It was loud. She wondered why it was only this noise that managed to escape through the soundproof walls that they had spent so much money on. Really, it was all a waste.

Because it was a female, the noise seemed shriller. A screech. And it sounded something like this:

"Oooohhhhh," the girl was crying out. "OOOOMMMIIIIGOD."

Haruhi sighed, and gave it not another thought.

For then she heard Kyouya, calm, composed; his voice, too, somehow penetrated through the soundproof walls that had cost a mortgage.

"My sincere apologies," she heard him say, "but that's my standard hourly fee."


	20. BreakDown

A/N: The poll on my profile is still ongoing for anyone interested.

**BreakDown  
**

by: sonofon

--

Driving had never come easily to Haruhi, but she was able to drive herself to work every morning, thus eliminating the use of a chauffeur. She drove an old Toyota that was always in need of service and a new cover of paint. It took all self-control from Kyouya to not have the car taken away and demolished, replaced with a perfectly new and usable Porsche.

Still, that didn't stop her from driving in reverse and accidentally rearing it into the wall every now and then, which was her current predicament. She rolled down the window, looked out, and saw that the bumper had been dented.

Once again, would have to go to the mechanic.

"Will you be late to work again?" Kyouya said, having entered the garage to see her struggle.

"No," she managed, pulling the shift with a harder pull, hoping that this would be the right one. "I _won't_."

"Will you be going to the mechanic's again?" he said, enjoying this more than he should have.

"Er. . ." she trailed off and muttered something.

"What did you say?" Kyouya asked, mug of coffee in hand, still grinning.

"I've been there a couple times now," she hastily said, "not that it's any of your business."

Of course it was his business; he was the one working the joint check balances, and he'd already seen several payments made to the mechanic, who was no doubt pleased by his regular client.

She looked almost disconcerted, and the thought of giving her a break -- for once -- entered his mind. He sighed.

"Tell you what," he told her, "why don't you tell them that, well, _I _was the one who did it this time?"

But she was going to owe him, she really was; no matter what it took, she--

"Maybe," she said, sitting up now and reaching for her phone. "Maybe I will. I mean, that's what I did last time."


	21. Schooling

**Schooling  
**

by: sonofon

--

Haruhi was still insisting that she was okay, though her face was telling another story.

"You're not," said Kyouya in a matter-of-fact way because it was the truth.

Representation work for the lower class had brought Haruhi into great esteem in the eyes of the people at the community center where she often visited. There seemed to be great respect for her there, and Haruhi was always happy to be able to help those less fortunate, for it was all part of her duty.

When she received an invitation to a free dinner sponsored by the center - the first of its kind - it was her duty, in a sense, to be present.

"You're pregnant," he said in a matter-of-fact way because it was the truth, and pregnant women did not subject themselves to poorly-made, commoner-handled food, if it could even be referred to as such.

"So?"

"Three _months_ pregnant," he emphasized, as if there was a difference between being three months pregnant and four months pregnant.

He did not relent until she agreed that he would appear by her side 'in the event that something short of horrific and catastrophic were to occur.'

A wave of applause honored her at the dinner's end, and Haruhi was grimacing and smiling at the same time, not a good combination.

Before they left, Kyouya dropped a wad of bills on the table. "Kyouya," Haruhi whispered out of shock, "don't do that."

The busboy picked up the money and tried to return it: "Sir, we can't accept tips here."

"It's not for you," Kyouya replied, steering Haruhi away and into a car that was to be headed for a private Ohtori hospital, "it's for the chef to go to culinary school."


	22. Gamble

A/N: A new poll has been set up on my profile. Please vote?

**Gamble**

by: sonofon

--

Renge lifted the baby onto her lap. "I'm sure you'll be fine, Haruhi," she said, and the baby cooed as if in agreement.

"Well, it's still early," Haruhi replied.

"The last trimester is the worst," Renge continued gravely. "I should know. It's like a race, see? The last push or however they call it. I laid in bed all day to read doujinshi."

"Oh," said Haruhi.

"And to eat cake. Specially designed and ordered from America. Overly sweet," was her verdict, "but addicting in an enticing and unhealthy way."

"Oh," said Haruhi.

"But for you," she smiled, "it'd probably be ootoro."

"Er," Haruhi managed.

"Do you know the sex of the baby yet?" Renge switched the topic, not noticing the general awkwardness of the conversation. The baby had crawled underneath the coffee table, and now slept peacefully there.

"We only know that they're twins," Haruhi shook her head, almost sadly.

"Congratulations! Girls or boys?"

"Don't know yet. Do you want to guess?"

"_Guess_?"

"Yes, you might as well," shrugged Haruhi, "I mean, the twins have already set up a betting pool."


	23. Prepared

**Prepared**

--

"So let me get this straight," said Hikaru, "you two don't know the sex of the twins yet, but you're choosing names."

"Well, it's better to be prepared," Haruhi replied. She cocked her head over to Tamaki. "And he's rather enjoying it."

She was polite enough not to add, "Much to the chagrin of everyone else." Within the past hour, Tamaki had offered one hundred names, ninety-eight of which were vetoed while the last two were, in Kyouya's own words, forever banned from the Fujioka-Ohtori household. Obviously, Tamaki did not understand the concept of giving up.

"Will they have both names?" Kaoru wondered. "Fujioka-Ohtori. With a hyphen."

"Just Ohtori," Kyouya said. "It's easier that way."

"He means he _wants_ it that way," Haruhi clarified, but she did not seem too begrudged by the idea. A few feet over, Tamaki was gesturing his arms wildly, which meant he had found another name. He went ignored. He was very much saddened.

"Actually, it's probably better that it's Ohtori than Fujioka," Hikaru suddenly said, draping his arms over Haruhi while playing with her cheeks. Kyouya noticed that Haruhi did nothing to stop him.

"Why's that?"

"Think about it," he said. "Suppose she were called Usagi."

"Usagi!" cried Hunny, who was very pleased by the suggestion.

"Which she most definitely will _not_," said Kyouya. "No daughter of mine will _ever_ be called Fujioka Usagi."

"Oh, Kyouya," said Haruhi.

"What about it?" said Kaoru.

"Think about it. Fujioka Usagi? Her initials would be F.U."

--

I realize that this is the first update in months; much apologies and thanks for the people who actually read this. And if you would like to, please vote in the poll on my profile?


End file.
